Shattered Dreams
by ghoulgraverobber
Summary: AU. Walking these bright vibrant white hallways and being questioned and helped is thus the fate of someone like Sabaku No Gaara, a crazed mosochist and Uchiha Itachi, a derranged murderer. [ItaXGaa]
1. Auschwitz

Okay. I wrote this lovely thing as a way to clear up my writers block. Well, so much for that. So, anyways if you like this story and wish for me to continue then REVEIW! I really don't know were this fic is quite going. I was thinking along the lines of a ItaXGaa or a SasuXGaa. I dunno. But, if you have any suggestions please reveiw or pm me with your request. Now for the Disclaimer among other things.

DISCLAIMER: Seriously, does it look like I own these _copyrighted and patented _materials? God. So. Please don;t sue or complain to me for something I don't own. Wich includes the song lyrics in italics. There owned by _Avenged Sevenfold. _Definantly NOT me.

A/n: Okay. One more thing. Since this fic takes place in a Rehabilitation/Psyco Intitustion I had to give it a name. Now, the _first _person to tell me were I got it from in a reveiw will get a fic with a pairing of there choice! Okay good.

Summary: Slightly AU. Bright white hallways always gleaming in your eyes and having to have an escort to go certain place can drive someone insane. Sabaku no Gaara was in need of "rehabiltation" and help for his so called problems. Uchiha Itachi was just crazy. Sasuke was in for the same as Gaara. Along with others. Either a GaaXIta or SasuXGaa.

Suggested Music: Trashed and Scattered by Avenged Sevenfold. Lonely Day- Avenged Sevenfold...

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_ Keep on writing you're just raping yourself_

_Nothing can take my mind away from them  
Don't you ask about me, ask 'bout somebody else_

_Once I've fallen there's many stories to tell  
I can feel it, won't embrace it, it's overwhelming how far you take it _

_Stuck in a state of questioning  
And don't you tell me you know we're destined, you won't convince me, I won't listen _

_Resentment building, you've put our lives on hold_

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When things seem normal, you know somethings wrong. When the air seems so sweet, you know theres a toxinous poison waiting to enter you oh-so fragile lungs. When you sit at the kitchen table, stareing down at that lucious meal before you, you can't help but think, Is it safe to eat this? The human being is such a fragile thing. It's delicate mind and body can be so easily tainted with evil, malice, and hate. You really don't know it at first. It comes upon you slowly, takeing it's time. Then you slowly begin to see changes in your behaivor. People notice these changes to and most, dislike this kind of change. Some, are even disgusted by it. But, most really can't help it. That's when _they_ come and help people like that. People that need psycological help. From dillusionalist to cutters, they take them all. Some go to rehabilitation and others go to the psyce horde. But, when it comes to stareing at those vibrant bright white walls, nothing matters but getting out of this "looney bin." And, when being a patient at Auschwitz Institute you wonder if your ever going to get out of this hell. And, some go to the greatest measurements just to leave... 

Sabaku no Gaara sat on his bunk in the small room he shared with a blonde girl named Yamanaka Ino. He was listening to his walkman, bobbing his head to the loud music that was seeping out of his headphones.There was nothing to do now adays. It was currently raining outside and Gaara didn't feel like hanging out in the dayroom with the other D Class patients. That would be kind of pointless really, most of the patients in his division were either older or younger than him an either thought he was weird or was to shy to talk to him. So, what was the point?

_ Trashed and scattered again, I'm feelin' so low.  
You waste your breath while fuckin' with me, my blood is so cold.  
My destination always unknown, I'll find my way there.  
But goddamn motherfuckers always wasting my time_.

Gaara looked down at the white lines decorating his thin arms. Most people would tell Gaara he needed help. Most people would pity Gaara. But, Gaara himself thought what graced his arms was more like a painting than a whole bunch of scars that were made by a self mutualist. He thought that he himself was more like an artist that was skilled with sharp objects, not a "cutter." And what was etched into his flesh was a beautiful painting that he made with his awesome talent. Yes, Gaara cut. But, no one would ever know why. And, Gaara would probably never leave this place but, he didn't care. He actually liked it there at Auschwitz. At least he wasn't being beatan by his father. At least he was well fed. He had it pretty good and plus Gaara didn't _want _to be helped. Just like the old saying goes. 'You can't help those who don't want to help themselves.' And, that was exactly the case with Gaara.

_ I won't be the victim, but the first to cast a stone  
Sedated nights to the bar room fights as metropolis takes its toll  
And don't you try to stop me, it's a place you'll never know  
Don't try to judge or take shots at me, I'll never let you seize control _

Play your game you better walk away cause your integrity don't mean shit  
Crawl on me you fucking parasite, and I'm gonna take you out

Gaara turned off his headphones and looked around the dim lit room. He suddenly heard the soft 'click click' of a nurses high heeled shoes. They stopped and he saw the skinny figure of a woman surface from the bright hallway.

"Sabaku there's a phone call for you." She said briskly and then walked out of the dark room.

Gaara didn't care about the call. He stood up shakily and slowly padded down the lenolium halls in his bright white socks. He reached the pay phone that had the receiver resting ontop of it softly. He picked up the receiver and hung it up with a click. Not even bothering to see who it was. Slowly strolling back down the bright white hallway he thought about someone that was in the Institute as well but, was in for a different reason than he. He smirked. Thinking about the boy made him angry. Like how he felt before he slit one of his victims throats. The feeling that he had longed for for so long...Now he longed for the thing that gave it to him.

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TBC

And thats a wrap. Reveiw if you like it. Reveiw if you don't like it. :--)

Domy-Chan


	2. Sitting In

Argh. Sorry for the extremely slow update but schools in two days and it's been hell getting everything together and I had major writers block. So I tried writing a poem...It was like Jeepeers Creepers all over again and caused even more blockage but then I has a sudden appiffany and the resuly was this. I don't like it very much, it feels kinda choppy...I dunno...

**Disclaimer: Don't own Don't sue. Unless you want lime jello.**

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_Tick Tick Tick Tick_

The redhead sat, listening to the silent ticking of the clock on his wall. Listening to nothing but that, infering everything he could about the soft sound that little Black Hand made.

_Tick Tick Tick Tick_

There was an amount of exactly 2 seconds in between each tick, thus defeating the purpose of it resembling the passing of one second when in fact it counted three. And that it didn't make a Tick Tock sound but just a Tick Tick sound, and that the third hand was very thin when all the others were fatter, that there were ridges in between the numbers, the twelve and six weren't perfectly aligned, the metallic bolt in the center was coming loose and looked worn, there were exactly 134 scuff and scratch marks on the plastic covering the top. Something interrupted his musing, and unfamiliar sound, different from the ticks.

_Buzz buzz Buzz Buzz_

Gaara glared over at the alarm clock, hoping that if he stared long enough it would suddenly burst into flames or just turn to dust, if only here were lucky enough. But, that would mean he would have some kind of hope because infact, Gaara's life had no luck or prosperity in it what-so-ever, just a bunch if pain-filled scars, a couple of uncaring siblings and parents, and a roof over his head which was more like a prison than anything. Yes, summed up, Gaara's life wasn't the luckiest. He reached over and tapped the button to the left that said snooze, then got up and switched the alarm off, threw on a clean shirt and slipped on his black and rainbow Etnies, before shuffling his way out of his room and down the hallway towards room 20 B. He hummed a song to himself, the words to the song 'Vindicated' By Dashboard Confessional ringing through whelms of his twisted mind...

_Hope dangles on a string_

_Like slow spinning redemption _

_Winding in and winding out _

_The shine of it has caught my eye_

_And roped me in _

_So mesmerizing, and so hypnotizing_

_I am captivated_

_I am _

He stopped abruptly in mid step and slowly turned his head to the left making sure it was looking straight at the door before he turned and faced the large opening. He pressed the intercom button and stated his name before the door opened automatically. He walked in and sat down in the leather chair.

Gaara's POV

The denim of my jeans makes a squeaking noise as it rubs against the leather of your chair, the chair I hate, the one placed directly in front of your large wooden desk. You glance up, then glance to the side, holding you gaze. I look over to see what you're looking at, a boy, or teenager, older than me. I know who he is, I smirk evilly, you notice and quickly raise your perfectly plucked eyebrow, questioning my act, it makes the smirk plastered over my face become even wider, and the thought of you even questioning me makes me laugh mentally, uncontrollably. Your brow falls back into place and you smile that fake smile you give me every two days, the one that makes me sick deep inside, that makes me want to puke all over your perfect face, make it ugly and unwanting.

_Vindicated_

_I am selfish_

_I am wrong_

_I am right _

_I swear I'm right _

_Swear I knew it all along _

_And I am flawed_

_But I am cleaning up so well_

_I am seeing in me now_

_The things you swore you saw yourself _

"Your late Gaara, you realize that don't you?" You ask, smiling even more. You bitch, how badly I want to smack you, to make you in pain. I just nod instead, holding my anger at bay, keeping my face blank like I'm used to doing. This makes you furrow your brow and makes that sickening smile disappear. Maybe this day isn't as bad as I thought it would be.

"As you've noticed, we have a guest, this is Itachi, he'll be sitting in with us today, his counselor thinks it would be of help to his state that he watch how sessions with the younger patients are so he'll stop worrying about his brother, he specifically asked to sit into your session, is this okay with you dear?" You and your questions and names, I hate it when you call me dear or hun or dearest. I nod again, making you appearingly agitated. Good. I glance over at the black haired boy in the corner, he had his head hung low, almost as if he were upset, and he was doodling on a peace of paper that he had placed on a hard cover book.

_So clear_

_Like the diamond in your ring_

_Cut to mirror your intention _

_Oversized and overwhelmed_

_The shine of which has caught my eye _

_And rendered me so isolated, so motivated I am certain now that I am _

"Can I see your drawing?" I ask as nicely as possible. He glances up surprised.

"S'cuse ,me?"

"Can I see your drawing? I ask more forcively.

I could see the panic spreading over his face.

"Uh...Um...No…"He said under his breathe while looking back down at the piece of paper.

"Why not?" I really am interested now in the picture. It just started out as wanting to know why he was showing such lack of interest in me but now I truly want to know why I can't see it. Is it profound in some way?

"Because..."

"Because isn't an answer. Is there something on the piece of paper you don't want me to see?" I questioned, my voice getting high at the end, to give it a funny sarcastic affect. It only made him more defensive.

"No, I just don't deem it necessary that you see what I'm drawing. Is it that much of a deal to you? Or are you just selfish and want to know why my attention isn't directed at you all of the time?" The anger dripping from his statement. It only made me want to anger you more, make me want to hear you angry, hear you raise you voice while I stare.

"It's about me isn't it? The drawing?"

"That's none of your concern."

_Vindicated_

_I am selfish_

_I am wrong _

_I am right _

_I swear I'm right_

_Swear I knew it all along_

_And I am flawed_

_But I am cleaning up so well_

_I am seeing in me now _

_The things you swore you saw yourself_

"Do you like it here Itachi? Do you ever get lonely?"

"How do you know my name?"

There are a lot of things I know about you."

"Like?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"That doesn't matter; I want to know what you know about me."

"Does it make you feel good? Happy?"

"What?"

"Knowing that I know something about you, knowing that I know your name, and the fact that you killed almost your entire family, that you have a younger brother named Sasuke, that you have issues, that your eyes turn red when you're angered or feel in danger, that you use L'Oreal Shampoo?"

This statement made your eyes widen, that only made me go further.

"That you used to have eating issues? That you have to take a shot every day to control you unhealthy blood flow, that your anemic, that you listen to underOATH when you cry, that you like to paint your nails and have a black and red cloak?"

_So turn _

_Up the corners of your lips_

_Part them and feel my finger tips_

_Trace the moment, fall forever_

_Defense is paper thin_

_Just one touch and I'd be in_

_Too deep now to ever swim against the current_

_So let me slip away _

_So let me slip against the current _

_So let me slip away _

You're shaking now, you're so beautiful when you're like this, and it sends shivers down my spine. I'm ready to leave, I stand up and glance back at Yataka's desk, she seems satisfied, I turn around walk to the door and open it, smirking as I walk back down the hall towards my room knowing that half the things I had just said to the Uchiha, weren't even true.

_Slight hope_

_Dangles on a string_

_Like slow spinning redemption_

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TBC

Reveiw, please?

I need to know if this is even going anywhere...It had a plat but the bunny ran away...

-Pepsi-chan


	3. Machiavellism

Omfg. Holy crap. I'm sooooooos sorry it took me forever to update. My computer was taken from me for a while and it sucked.

Well, I found time to write a new chappy.

It's kinda choppy but it'll do to hold you guys over till I write some more.

I finally figured out a good plot for this here work of art.

I'm sooooo excited..

**Disclaimer: Don't own, don't care, don't sue.**

_Suggested songs: Machiavellism- By Dir En Grey, Hime - by Miyavi, and Berry by Dir En Grey._

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_My comeuppance and your ignorance._

_Lyrical Show Time_

_Full of ability it's the Blood red show time._

_Comical Show Time._

_Inflammation of vitality._

_It's the Blood Red Show Time._

_Cynical Showtime._

_Reality comes to life._

_It's the blood red show time._

_Radical show time, eternity breaks._

_It's the blood red show time._

Gaara's POV

Stunned, is what I assume Itachi was. Or more or less scared. I can only sit here and ponder while I eat my disgusting food. They make me eat it actually. If I had a choice I'd rather starve than eat this grotesque slump. The pie is the best part though.

I can use the tin part to cut myself later. It slides a lot easier too, making the cut more clean and deep.

I can only imagine the distaste Itachi feels towards me for my acts. Or maybe he doesn't dislike me for my habit; maybe he likes it just as much as I do. I mean, the thought of him slitting someone's throat…my throat, makes me want him. Makes me want to make him hate me, fill him up with anger and contempt towards me so much to the point were it drives him to another level of insanity.

Now that would be nice.

To see Itachi compelled to the point were he's confined to a single room with no escape. And I, I would stand outside and look in on him and his pitiful being. I would feel the urge to rescue him from the whelms of his dark mind, and then, there would be the other half, laughing at his disposition and state of mind.

Oh how evil that side of me is. It's so cadaverous. Especially when it rampages, destroying every bit of hope the good side of me had mustered up. Leaving me without courage or motivation. Making me the way I am today.

I'm done eating so I might as well go back to my room; hopefully Miss Anorexia Nervosa isn't there and is in the Day Room with everyone else.

I peer into the room, coast is clear. I flop-plop onto the bed and pick up my notebook and pen and begin to write…

_That's right; I still can't find the meaning of my existence _

_That's why I slice the meaning on my body more and more and more and more and more _

_Go ahead and just laugh, and just walk away_

_The voices of backstabbers still sick to me._

_Someday maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe the voice will be heard straight to my heart._

_Go ahead and just laugh, and break away._

_Hurry up! Hurry up!_

_Wrist-cut show!_

_Hurry up! Hurry up!_

_Wrist-cut show!_

_No thank you! No thank you!_

_Good bye! Hurry up! Hurry up!_

_Wrist-cut show!_

_Hurry up! Hurry up!_

_Wrist cut-show!_

_It's better then to not even notice it._

End POV

Gaara closed his journal with a slam and reached under his mattress. He pulled out a thing piece of tin, from one of the pie dishes at lunch. He positioned it near the crook of his elbow. Ready to move it across and extract the pain and pour crimson regret.

"Are you so sure you want to do that?"

And with that, Gaara froze.

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CLIFFHANGER.

lolz.

see you guys next time.

Be sure to reveiw.

-Pepsi-chan.


	4. Kill Em' All

woooow. sorry it took a million years for me to write this chapter.

i worked sort of hard on this, so please reveiw and give me your absolute honest opinion.

love you all!

dont own, dont sue.

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Gaara could hear his heart beating in the back of his head, the rapid thumping of his pulse. He squeezed his eyes shut so tight that tears beaded on his lashes. He dropped the pie dish to the ground, much to his dismay. His chest was heaving, he'd never been this frightened in his life. If this person told his counselor Yataka, he'd be doomed. She'd never let him see the light of day, for every second of his pitiful, miniscule life will be spent in her stuffy office of doom. Gaara tried to calm himself, but nothing was working. His breathes were shallow and laborous, his lungs stung and his eyes burned and watered. He heard muffled footsteps, the person was walking towards him. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, what were they going to do to him? 

**Why are you worrying so much dumbfuck?**

There was that voice, that other side of his brain that continously tore him down. But this time it was right. Why was he getting to nervous? Whomever they are they definantly can't see him like this, he has a reputation to uphold!

Gaara had begun to turn around when the person that intruded into his personal space helped him. They grasped Gaara's shoulder and tore him around and made the redhead face him. If it was physically possible, Gaara's jaw would be laying on the floor at that moment, a heaping pile of bloody flesh, but the ability to detach your jaw bone, flesh, and muscle from the rest of your face has not yet been proved as even remotely attainable.

"Itachi?" Gaara masked the nervousness in his voice like a pro. He had learned from years of being punished for showing emotion in his voice.

"Yes." Itachi's face was near Gaara's ear and his voice was low and breathy almost. '**What is this guy trying to do? Seduce me?**' Gaara thought. The readhead's eyes flashed in the dark, the glimmer of them looking frightening. Gaara was lying on his bed and Itachi was hovering over him. His eyes turned to slits. And with those thin slits he looked into Itachi's eyes. Looked and stared, peered through a window almost - taking in every fleck of color. The bold pigments of red, and inky black staining it. And then without a moments haste he shoved Itachi off of him and onto the floor.

"What do you think your doing? I will not be treated with such disrespect." The boy with the blood for hair hissed. Gaara stradled Itachi and glared at him.

"Who do you think you are? Barging in on me like this." His eyes narrowed even more. "Little boy, the door is that way, now leave."

He shoved himself off of the black haired young man. He sat himself back down on the bed, his back facing away from the other boy. For the slightest moment his eyes lowered and a flash of some sort of emotion coursed through his retinas. But just as quickly as it appeared it disappeared like a magic trick. He inhaled deeply and exhaled over dramatically. Before he could do anything more he felt arms wrap around him from behind, trapping him, making him imobile.

Itachis lips were hot on Gaara's neck, making his skin feel like it was bubbling. "I will have you." The raven hair whispered into Gaara's skin.

"I'm not some peice of furniture. You just can't own me or have me, like an acre of cheap property."

Itachi bit down on Gaara's pale flesh, drawing a mass amount of blood. It ran down Gaara's neck in a curvy trail. He winced for a second at the sting but that was it, Itachi had began to speak before he could think of the pain anymore.

"I **will** have you. I'll take you right here, right now." His words were shock loaded with venomn.

Gaara pushed himself up on his elbows, creating a space of only a few inches between his and Itachi's face. "And," he started. "What if I resist?" He played along. Tracing the red eyed boy's strong jaw bone.

"Then you'll be forced to participate." His lips on Gaara's wound. Kissing and nipping it. Gaara moaned into it, making Itachi smirk with sweet sweet satisfaction, he was getting exactly what he wanted.

Gaara licked his lips. They were salty from sweat.

**'I can't beleive your letting him do this to you.'**

'It feels so good.' Gaara shot back. He felt psychotic because he was strating an arguement with the voice in his head. Witch most normal people don't do. But then again, he was the fathest thing from normal. But the sheer fact that he was speaking to his other side made him begin to wonder if he was just a naturally sad and lonely person, or that there was something deeper than just clinical depression. Can anyone say scitzophrenia perhaps?

**'It's repulsive. He's a boy.'**

'I don't care. I've spent months in this place without getting fucked. I'm not letting this chance slip away. So just shut your trap and try to enjoy this as much as I am.'

Gaara came out of his mind to find Itachi hovering above him, staring at him strangely.

"W-what?" He stuttered out of nervousness and excitement.

"You were whimpering like an abused dog. I thought I might have hurt you." Itachi adverted his gaze, embarassed that he had just openly expressed some of his feeling. He had never done something like that before.

"If you were hurting me I wouldn't be whimpering, beleive me. It would be something like this.." Gaara brought himself up to Itachi's ear and bit at the fleshy lobe. "Mmm Itachi." He breathed. "Feels so good." He mimmicked all the bleach blonde, flaky as crackers, fake busted, porn stars he had seen starring in the 9mm tapes that his father hid in the empty paintcans on the shelf above the washer and dryer. "Thats what it would sound like." Gaara smiled wickedly, each one of his white teeth gleaming and sparkling in the dark.

"Well, if that's the case." Itachi began as he simultaneously rolled off the bed and onto the floor, snatching up the abandoned mettallic pie dish. After aquiring the item he began to crawl back up onto the bed, on all fours.

To Gaara, seeing Itachi wearing only a pair of black leather pants, that were so tight that they squeaked when he walked because of the friction on his skin, scratching and scraping at the sheets on all fours like a dog to get towards him had to be the most alluring and appealing thing he had ever seen in his entire life. And it definantly turned him on.

Itachi finnally made his way up to Gaara and dangled the pie dish infront of his face. "I guess we'll be needing this." He said, finishing his sentence from before.

Itachi pulled up Gaara's band tee revealing his pale, flat as a sheet of paper abdomen. He angled the dish right under his naval and applied a little pressure, drawing the tiniest bit of blood and making a soft moan rise in Gaara's throat. Itachi pushed down harder - he moaned louder. A wicked smile of pleasure crossed over the raven haired boys face. He pushed down even harder and slowly moved it down making a long gash from his bellybutton to the top of Gaara's pants. Blood rolled down his sides in thin streams, his blood an opaque crimson. Gaara almost screamed, it felt so wonderful. Itachi grinned in the dark room, his teeth gleaming like gemstones in the shadowy cavern of his mouth. Gripping the pie dish he made a quick slash near the end of the line from his belly button to the top of Gaara's pants.

"What is that supposed to be?" Gaara said breathily. He stared at the upside down cross on his lower abdomen. It looked familiar, but he couldn't remember what it was or what it stood for.

"It's an upside down cross." Itachi answered. The raven haired boy straddled him and put his face in the others. His took Gaara's bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it, sucking on some of the blood. "It's the sign of the devil." He continued to suck on the redhead's lip. "My father used to call me devil spawn. So I took it up as my trademark, or brand." He pulled away from Gaara's face and looked into his eyes. He rubbed his nose against the others, and closed his eyes, smiling that toothy smile. "And I just made you **mine."**

Gaara smiled too and rubbed back. He liked the idea of belonging to someone, even if that someone was an insane homocidal maniac. He liked Itachi, and that was all that mattered. And Itachi liked him. Not like those other boyfriends and girlfriends he had before he came here. They just wanted him because he was an easy fuck that actually looked half decent. Gaara could tell that Itachi wasn't like that.

Gaara's ears perked up when he heard the distinguished creak of the old wooden door being opened. Then footsteps, somebody slowly and sceptically entering the room.

"Gaara I told you not to turn the lights off and close the door during the day. It bugs the shit out of me" Came Ino's voice. _Flick. _The lightswitch.

**'Shittt.'** Was the one word that was repeating itself over and over in his mind. That and: **'I'm screwed. We're screwed. We're ALL fucking screwed.'**

Ino approached the bed and froze. Staring at a bloody Gaara in a submissive position under an Itachi with a face covered in ecstacy and delight.

"What the fuck?" Her eyes were wide. Her face was like a deer in headlights. She ran out of the room, scrared and scarred for life - screaming for the scretary and helpers on that floor.

"Fuck! Run!" Gaara shoved Itachi off the bed.

They both stood and Gaara slipped his shirt back on and Itachi followed suit. Itachi tilted Gaara's face upward and kissed him on the cheek. "Remember, your mine." He whispered, before sprinting out of the room. Gaara smiled, he was slightly happy - for once. Then his happiness was ruined by the careworker yelling at him from the doorway.

"Gaara I am reporting you to your therapy adviser! This is unacceptable behaivor." She screeched. The fucking howler monkey.

Gaara stomped over to the door, and slammed it in her face. He scrawled into bed and ran his finger over the still bloody cross. He shivered. And for maybe just maybe, in that moment, he considered that he just might **be in love.**

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holy shit i cannot beleive how long that took for me to write that!

GRRRRRRR.

well now that i'm rolling again, and have things fresh in my mind, i can get the next chapter up sooner.

i think i like this chapter the most out of all the other ones. but that's just my opinions.

tell me what yours is.


	5. Ashes To Ashes

AHHH THIS WEEK WAS SO HECTIC. I'M READY TO RIP MAH HAIR OUT!

BUT, i found some time to update, just for you kiddies! so feel special!

i won't be updating for about a week or so, because dun dun dun school starts tomorrow. i'm not that excited.

buuuut i'll live.

disclaimer; don't own, don't sue.

HERE YOUUU GOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

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Long, slender, pale fingers ghosted over a stomach. Their owners stomach, scabbed flesh and oozing abrasions could be felt under the tips. Yellow puss stuck to the nails. Gaara smiled wickedly. Pale green eyes darted around the room - it was dark and the door was open, Ino had already left. Gaara glanced at the clock. 1:40. He had twenty minutes to get ready. He shut his eyes for a moment, hesitant to get up, before reopening them and staring at the underside of Ino's bunk. He wiggled his toes to see if he was still alive. He was feeling off. He inched up his shirt so his brand was showing. He stared at the upside down cross. He stared and stared and stared. He wondered, why he had let Itachi do this to him? Why had he let Itachi _touch_ him the way he had?

Because he wanted it. Yes, that was it. He had wanted every carress, every nip. He had wanted it, needed it. It had been something that he knew he couldn't have turned down. He _belonged_ to someone - to Itachi.

He lifted his legs up and slid off the bed in one swift motion. He regretted having done so. His stomach was sore from the large wound there and moving it so hastily and stretching it without thinking had hurt. Stupid Gaara. He hobbled over to his dresser, sleep painted over his solemn features, he was lacking it. He needed rest, his body was screaming for it, but his mind was denying him it. Gaara really hated his mind. He whipped open the middle dresser drawer and examined his arsenal of clothing. He sort of stared at all of the neatly folded clothes. He wanted to look good for Itachi, if he saw him at all today. He lifted up a couple shirts and stared at them. Then he gave up and grabbed a pair of jeans, though you couldn't really call them _jeans_ because of the zillions of rips and tears that decorated them. To accompany the torn and tattered article of clothing he chose a black shirt with cut off sleeves that zippered across the front and a black fishnet shirt to go underneath it. And for acessories he chose his studded belt, because he couldn't live without it. Thats what he loved about being the level patient he was, he was here because he was _addicted_ to something - _addicted_ to cutting. Just like Ino is _addicted_ to not eating. Everyone in his level was addicted to something and had minimal psychological disabilites. And because they didn't need as intense care as the other patients on the upper floors they had more freedom and a lot more privelages. One of those privelages being that they could wear almost whatever they wanted, as long as it didn't cause any harm to another person or wasn't provacative or something like that. Like a school dress code except different.

Gaara stared at himself in the dresser mirror. He ruffled his hair a little. He didn't understand why Itachi liked him, or why _anyone_ liked him for that fact. He wasn't that attractive and according to his "friends" that he had before he came here he was pretty scary also. So _why?_ He would have to ask Itachi later or whenever he saw him next. After he was satisfied with the way he looked he left the room, not bothering to put his shoes on.

He walked down the hall, past the Rec Room, he glanced in to see Ino and Sakura argueing about something, Sasuke was seated on the couch looking around bored, un-interested in his surroundings.

'_Sasuke. .'_ The name was familiar to him. He remeberd his therapy appointment the other day.

'**Gaara, this is Itachi. He'll be sitting in on todays appointment to releive some of his anxiety about his little brother Sasuke having therapy appointments with me. Is that alright with you?**'

'_Itachi's little brother,'_ Gaara thought with a smirk. '_I'll have to make it a point to speak to him.'_

Gaara continued walking down to the next door and stood there for a moment. There was a plaque on the outside next to the entrance that had the name '_M. Yataka'_ embedded into it's hard surface. He inhaled and prepared himself, this is what he hated. This is what he loathed about the place. This is _who_ he loathed. He reached out and rested the tips of his fingers on the door knob. It was icy, and cold. He gripped it more and began to turn it, it clicked and he pushed the door open, revealing a neat office. '_This is what I hate.'_

He stepped in and glanced at the person placed behind the cherry wood desk. He took in her appearance. Her repulsive and disgusting appearance. He took in her pale even blemish free skin, her painted red lips, her black hair that was pulled back into the tightest bun he had ever witnessed. '_This is who I hate.'_

He sat down in the squeaky chair, having ignored her prompt greeting. He looked around, she had moved her lamp to the other side of the desk and there was a box in the corner with books stacked in it. Her desk was almost bare except for a pen and Gaara's file. The computer was gone and the light fixture she used to have in the corner was missing. Something was off.

"I heard about what happened Gaara." She began in her even, calm voice. "I wasn't surprised at all. The type of personality you have has promiscuous characteristics." She finished curtly. '_And this is why I hate it.'_

"I see you've noted that my belongings are gone and or packed in boxes." She 'notes' everything. "That's because I'm moving to a different facility." Gaara felt joy overwhelm him. "And you will no longer be my client." She stated with a sigh. Gaara was almost happy, _almost._ He was _almost_ happy because what Yataka said after that made him loose any elation or thrill that would have previously been coarsing through him.

"I will be replaced though, by a therapist from an upper level. She was Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame's counselor, but requested to come down here and work with you and the others for a while." Gaara's swallowed hard. '_I-Itachi's old therapist?'_ He felt panicky and sort of nervous at that statement.

"Your nervous, what's wrong?" Yataka questioned.

"I'm n-not nervous." '_Shit, I stuttered._'

She cocked an eyebrow at this response. "Oh, really? Hmm, I beg to differ." She wagged a finger at him.

"Stupid cunt, I'm not nervous, don't be so presumtuous and aerogant you fucking bitch." She didn't look taken aback by the outburst at all. Gaara's fist was gripping the chair. He releived the pressure a little. He couldn't let her get under his skin, that would be letting her win.

"That's all for today. When you come tomorrow, I will not be here, in my place will be a woman who you will refer to as Tsunadae, understood?" She stood and picked up Gaara's file and slipped a peice of paper into it, Gaara couldn't make out what was written on it. He turned on his heel and began to leave when Yataka's voice hit his ear.

"Oh and Gaara," He hated how she paused in between her sentences like that. "If your going to have Itachi down in your room, then the least you can do is lock your door. Ino was quite traumatized." Gaara's eyes widened.

'_I-Is she being serious?'_

_'NO, She's being sarcastic.'_

_'Nobody asked you Shukaku.'_

_'Like I care. I'm still pissed at you for letting that Uchiha bastard touch you like that.'_

_'Are you saying that because you care, or because you think it's gross?'_

_'The latter, I think both of you are gross. Especially you, your disgusting, PATHETIC AND DISGUSTING.'_

_'SHUT UP!'_

Gaara ran out of the office, he ran and ran until he almost slammed into his bedroom door. He whipped it open and went inside, slamming it shut behind him. He slid down the length of the wooden panel, once he hit the bottom he pulled his legs up against his chest and nuzzled his head into his knees. He was hyperventalating. He could feel his chest heaving, it felt like someone was pushing him against the door, like someone was squeezing his fragile lungs. He started coughing and weezing, it hurt so bad.

_'Oh god, it hurts.'_

_'Haha, I thought you liked the pain, Gaara? Or what, don't you like it when I hurt you like this?'_

His legs started to slide, he was scratching at his chest. There was searing hot pain in the space his ribs encased, burning like a match. He bit down on his lip, drawing blood.

'_STOP IT!'_

_'Don't you like it? Aww don't make me sad. I just wanted to make you happy.'_

His voice. It was, no. It couldn't be. A wave of pain shot through Gaara's body. He screamed in agony.

"STOP IT DAD! PLEASE, STOP! I'll BE A GOOD BOY DADDY PLEASE! I PROMISE!" The pain was so immense, he couldn't take it anymore. "STOP IT DADDY, YOUR CRUSHING ME I CAN'T BREATHE!" Gaara was sobbing now.

'_I HATE YOU JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER HATES YOU! SCREAM IN PAIN GAARA, BECAUSE NOBODY CAN HEAR YOU EXCEPT ME! SCREAM!'_

Gaara screamed. He screamed so hard it felt like his lungs were going to bleed, like they were going to tear in half.

"Oh god! Please stop! It hurts!" He howled. His whole chest throbbed and stung. He was being smothered, smothered by his father, by Shukaku, by _himself._

'_DIE YOU FUCKING PEICE OF TRASH!'_

"I WANT TO DIE! PLEASE JUST KILL ME!" He wanted the pain to end, he was squirming on the floor now, writheing in pain. Each breath stung like a bee. He wanted it to all go away.

'_Nobody can save you Gaara, NOBODY. Not even that wrechid Itachi! YOUR ALONE. And you'll always be like that. BY YOUR PATHETIC LITTLE SELF BECAUSE NOBODY LIKES YOU.'_

Gaara curled into fetal position. Why won't it all just go away? Shukaku's voice was screaming in his ear, that was the only thing he heard. That wraspy, hoarse voice. He didn't hear someone open the door, he saw them. He saw a nurse stare at him in horror. He saw her get more people. But he didn't hear them. He didn't hear the nurse comforting him. He didn't hear the doctors yelling orders at eachother. He only saw - saw through teary eyes. Vision clouded and impeared. He saw the needle, he saw it go into his arm. And then finally the pain disappeared, and he didn't see anything anymore, but he still heard - cackling, in the back of his mind. Shukaku - laughing maniacly atc his state, at his pathetic and helpless state.

And then that even stopped. And everything went numb, and silent, and that's how it remained for what seemed like a very long time.

* * *

Gaara could barely open his eyes, they were being pushed down by his mind, witch was begging for more sleep. He laid there awake for a few minutes, letting his body relax and wake up before sitting up and looking around. 

He had figured out where he was the minute he woken. He had identified it before his eyes even had the chance to flutter open. He can distinguish the smell of a hospital room better than anybody he knew. He glanced out the window to the right of his bed, there was a large building on the other side. '_This must be the hospital that's connected to the main building of the facilitation.'_ Gaara mused. _'That means Itachi's probably right down the hall from here.'_ He stared at the white linoleum floor. '_And my bedroom is below here.'_ He didn't realize how close he was to Itachi until now. He smiled sadly, despair and hurt tugging at the corners of his mouth. He shut his eyes and tried to relax a little more, he could feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Hospitals made him so nervous - so _on edge._ Shouting could be heard down the hallway, Gaara stared at the open door as a teenage boy in a stretcher was being pushed down the hall by frantic doctors and nurses. The boys head turned and his eyes connected with Gaaras. They were deep blue, just like - no. He wasn't going to think about it. He could still hear the doctors, he recognized one of their voices, it sounded exactly like the doctors from that night. He was still staring at the door way, locked in a trance. He saw a boy run by, blood red hair bouncing, tears and smeared eyeliner running down his cheeks. It was him - it was Gaara. He clutched at the sheets as the boy bolted past. '_What the hell is going on..' _He could feel bile rising in his throat. He started to get up, he didn't know what was leading him out of the room, something was controlling him, making him move. He was at the doorway now, the shouting still ringing in his ears, clear as day. He didn't need to hear them to know what they were saying, he remembered.

"Somebody get a tube down his throat and secure his legs!" Demanding orders from a Doctor, the one whos voice he recognized earlier.

"We're running out of bandages for his chest!" That was the squeaky nurse.

He was in the hall now, watching the spectacle before him. Staring at himself. Watching himself like a movie. Remembering what it was like to watch his best friend die. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes, but he bit them back. He was staring into the hospital room now, standing side by side with himself. He watched as they shoved a tube down his throat, simeltaneously wrapping bandage after bandage around his body, as they propped up his broken leg. He stared at his torn and mutilated chest, he could see all twelve ribs poking through his skin, everytime the boy breathed out, blood would spurt from his limp left lung. He moved his way up to the boys necks where there were tiny shards of glass embedded there, his eyes wandered further, to his face. His face that was contorted and twisted in sheer and utter agony. Tears streaming from baby blue eyes, seeping into the wounds on his chin and cheeks. He could see all the dried and caked blood in his hairline, and the splotches at the tips of his blonde spikes. He could hear his screaming in pain, writheing and squirming.

"Naruto. ." He whispered to himself. Staring at him, watching him. Naruto coughed up a handful of blood and Gaara felt like he was going to be sick. The boy that was standing beside Gaara - himself from the memory, began screaming. Nurses we're pulling him away, he was scratching and clawing at them, he bit the ones hand and they finnally let up and released him. He ran into the room, and present-tense Gaara followed after. He could hear them whispering to eachother from the doorway. The doctors had all but given up, they're was no saving the boy.

"Naruto don't leave me, please, not now." Naruto was clutching his hand, getting blood all over Gaara's pale skin.

"Gaara. . ." His voice was hoarse and rapsy from the glass in his neck and throat. "Gaara . . I love you, man." His eyes were falling shut, he was leaving, letting go.

"Naruto, no!" His protested and shook the boy, thinking that his touch would bring life back into him. Gaara was still watching from the doorway, tears begging to be set free from his eyes.

"I love you too, Naruto." He whispered to himself. He had never answered the boy that night, he had never told him how much he loved him, how much he cared about him. He couldn't because that night he had felt the numbest he had ever felt in his entire life.

"Gaara?" His eyes shot open and he turned on his heel to see a nurse behind him. "What are you doing?" She questioned, puzzled.

"I was - I umm.." He turned back around and looked into the now empty hospital room. Everything was gone, the nurses, the doctors, the blood, himself, Naruto - all having disappeared.

"Nothing. Just excersizing my legs." He replied and stared at the floor, his heart was still pounding in his chest, eyes still watery.

"Oh, well get back to your room, you have a visitor." She replied curlty before taking her leave.

Gaara shuffled his way back to his hospital room. He peeked in through the doorway to see Itachi sitting on the windowsill, staring at the clouds. Gaara walked over softly and leaned his head on Itachi's shoulder. He felt the Uchiha jump, surprised - he hadn't hurt Gaara enter. He eased an arm around the red head and pressed him closer.

"Tsunadae told me what happened last night. She was the one who gave you the sedatives." Itachi started, still staring out the window. Gaara had his face pushed into Itachi's upper arm. "She said you look scared. More scared than anyone she had ever seen in her entire life." Itachi had pulled Gaara up onto the window sill with him and had his arms wrapped around Gaara, pulling him back against his broad chest.

"What happened that made you so afraid?" Itachi inquired, nuzzling into the crook of Gaars neck, placing his lips onto the younger boys clavicle. "What did you see?"

"I-I don't remember." He replied, ashamed almost. His heart hurt so bad. He felt Itachi move his face away and withdraw his arms, before relocating them on his shoulders. He started to turn Gaara around, but Gaara finished the task willingly for him. He wrapped his legs around Itachi's waist and pulled himself into the man, wrapping his arms around the Uchiha's middle.

"You remember, you just don't want to think about it." Itachi all but hissed. Gaara still felt sick from the flashback from a few minutes ago. He felt that feeling again, that feeling to make Itachi mad, to make him insane.

"Your **right.** Maybe I **don't** want to think about it." The red head scoffed, squirming out of Itachi's grip, sliding off the window sill we ease. "What's it to you anyways?" He glanced over his shoulder at the raven haired man.

"Because," Itachi had removed himself from the windowsill alos and was walking over to where Gaara was standing. "I want to make that same fear appear on your face again, for me to see with my own eyes." He was looming above Gaara, staring down at the top of the boys head. He didn't want to look up, didn't want to stare into those eyes.

"The same thing doesn't scare me twice." Gaara said briskly before turning and heading over to the night stand where his clothes were. He picked them up and examined them, before begining to undress himself. _'I'm going to make him want me with all his heart..'_ Maniac laughter could be heard in the back of his dark, twisted mind. He slowly began unbutton the back of the hospital gown, the thin cottony fabric sliding over his pale bony shoulders. He dropped it so it fell down to his ankles, thanking the lords they kept his boxers on. He stepped out of the pile of clothes and began to pull on his jeans. He heard a whimper come from Itachis direction. He smirked a deep, well-deserved smirk, and continued to dress himself. He had his pants shit and everything else on when he felt arms wrap around him.

"Why do you have to tease like that?" Itachi breathed into his ear. Gaara rejected the urge to smile.

"Hmm? I was teasing? I didn't notice." He pulled himself out of Itachi's arms and exited the room in one swift movement. Itachi stood there for a moment, frozen before heading towards the door, he looked to his right. He was already gone. The Uchiha sighed to himself and decided to head back to his room to take his meds.

It was gonna' be a longggg day.

* * *

wow, that was like really long. 

for those of you who got confused with the Gaara/Naruto death scene, here's some clarification

1. naruto and gaara were REALLY good friends, first off, not lovers, just reallllyyy close friends.

2. gaara was expieriencing [tottally spelt that wrong a memory, the memory of narutos death. therefore there was like a "clone" of gaara there, and that was the one that was screaming and hitting the nurses

3. present tense gaara was the one that said "i love you too" because he never got the chance to say it to naruto that night.

mkkay? mmkay.

i'm sort of loosing inspiration for this story.

it's...i dont know.

I'D LIKE TO GIVE A SPECIAL THANK YOU TO EVIE! SHES AWESOME AND TOTTALLY KICKS MUFFIN ASS WITH ME! SHE ROCKS MY SOCKS[ i got a new aim screename btw. it is : thexgraverobbers

anddd i'd like to thank IndigoTwilight for the AWESOME reveiw. it tottally inspired me to finish this chapter! kudos to you!

well, i must be taking my leave now!

see you all next time!

Love,

Pepsi-Randsome


	6. We All Fall Down

wowwww. i got a new chappie up! go me!

this is sort of pointless in a sense. the only contribution it does to the plot is the end where itachi's reminiscing and such. i'll talk more at the end.

disclaimer; **don't own, don't sue**

* * *

Itachi could feel all of his limbs going numb, a tingling sensation spreading throughout his body as the syringe was pressed into his skin further. He shuddered, then the needle was withdrawn and his head felt heavy. This was what happened everyday when he took his meds. His eyes became hazy and his extremeties were warm and tingly. '_Hmm feels nice.'_ He mused before the nurse gave him his oral medecation. This was the stuff he didn't like, it tasted absolutely **repulsive**, like shit and flowers.

He stood up from his bed and changed his white shirt, slipping into a slightly tighter black one. He had gained the privelage of color choice for clothing last month. He had previously had more, three months ago he had many freedoms, but when he bit a nurses finger off a week after gaining the privelage of select reading materials, he had been placed in confinement and all his privelages had been snatched away. He had slowly gained them back, witch was something he was happy for. He had gained back the one that he needed most - ability to visit patients of lower levels. Witch meant Sasuke and Gaara.

'_Gaara..'_ He felt his eyes sadden as he thought of how the redhead had so promptly taken his leave earlier. '_I want to see him again today.'_ He heard a nurse yelling out in the hall, he cringed as his door flew open. He felt a rapid headache coming on. '_No, I __**need**__ to see him again.'_

"Itachi!" The shrill exclamation of his voice caused a slight cringe. The owner of said voice stalked over to where Itachi was sitting on the edge of his white bed. He felt the collar of his shirt being grasped and then his body being raised slightly. He snapped his head up and looked into the intruders eyes, peircing them. The person faltered and set him down, but didn't let go of his shirt.

"What is it, Pein?" He snapped, adgitation laced into his voice.

"Your fucking little brother!" All of the Uchiha's aggravation was wiped away at this statement, and his scowl was replaced with a haughty smirk.

"Sasuke?" Itachi picked at his nails. "What did he do now?" He inquired, eager to hear how his brother had tuanted the man yet again.

"He's being a tease!" Pein had let go of the younger mans shirt and was now sitting next to him on the bed, depression and aggravation prominent on his rough features.

"Hmm how so?" Itachi pryed. He wanted to use the information at a later date to tease the slightly older man. The subject of Sasuke always getting a rouse out of him.

"I went to go see him, and we were in the day room on his floor and I had him straddled on the couch, and I was so close to getting sex out of him." He huffed. "So damn close. We were in the middle of kissing when he decided to be the rude little shit he is and told me that the peircings on the bridge of my nose bugged the shit out of him, and that he wouldn't kiss me anymore because of them." Pein whined. He did that a lot, and quite frankly it bugged the shit out of Itachi.

"Take the peircings out." Itachi stated blankly, it WAS the most obvious solution. "Now, I'm leaving. I have my therapy appointment and a certain person to tend to. And it requires me to go downstairs." Itachi said, standing up and looking down at Pein, who hadn't moved from the bed. "This is when you get the fuck out of my room." Itachi promted him.

"Oh yeah, right. Sorry." With that said Pein scuttled out of the room and Itachi made his way out of the room also. He stopped at the desk down the hall and informed the secretary where he was going, and that he would be back in three or four hours. She logged it into her book and Itachi left to go the stairs that led to the next floor down. He stepped slowly, cautiously. Slowly he made his way down the long, perpetual hall. He passed Gaara's bedroom door, her could hear harsh loud music seeping through the frame of the door. He didn't pay any more attention to it, he didn't really care at the moment. Gaara had teased him and then left him in the hospital room alone. He was angry at the younger boy. '_Wow, now I know how Pein feels..'_ He started to hum as he approached the door to his therapist's office. He knocked, and then entered. Tsunadae was behind her desk, shuffling through papers, looking very distraught.

"Sit." She commanded harshly. Itachi glared in response, but sat down anyways. Tsunadae eyed him strangely, before resuming her paper organizing.

After that he just sort of sat there and stared. He counted the cars in the parking lot, he counted the green colored vehicles, then the blue, and the red. '_They say red cars are most likely to get into car accidents.'_ He remembered Sasuke saying that the night of their parents death. He remembered the year following, how they had struggled, how they had scraped at the bottom of the can to get any sort of scraps. When their parents had deseased, Itachi and Sasuke had been left with all their fathers gambling dues. It costed them almost all their fortune, and had left them with very, very little. He remembered the night Sasuke told him he belonged to a gang, led by the infamous Orochimaru. He remembered when Sasuke had acted so tough around the pale-skined snake like man, but behind closed doors he knew what went on between the two, and he regretted letting it sit and boil and brew into something bigger. He remembered when Sasuke had come crawling to the door step, beating and bleeding, cum dripping and running down his chin. And he remembered pulling Sasuke back into his loving arms, and he remembered putting all the peices back together and bringing him back to reality and back to life. He remembered the pain, he remember the anger. And then he remembered the numbness.

In the particular gang that Sasuke had belonged too apparently there was a code, 'once a member, always a member', and that included most family members. Witch meant Itachi was **expected** to join. And after what had happened to his little brother he had been more than happy to comply. He needed to protect his otoutou. But that didn't stop the emotions. That didn't stop any of it. Itachi remembered the first time he had seen Gaara. He counted the last red car in the parking lot. Thinking about the redhead and how he had stepped out of that black car, with the blonde Uzumaki, how he had been so insane, so _unstable._ But the thing he remembered the most, was the command that Orochimaru had issued at that moment.

"Kill them, both." Were the words that had escaped the creeps lips, and without a moments haste all of them had jumped onto the two. Itachi grabbed Sasuke and they had ran, ran all the way back home. Itachi remembered the look on Sasuke's face, and the cell phone call from Orochimaru that had followed shortly after. He remembered what his brother had to do. He remembered how he was sent to kill the blonde in a car crash. He remembered. Even though remembering was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

"Tsunadae?" He watched the blonde woman raise her head in recognition. "Do - do you beleive in angels?" He asked sceptically. He thought for a second.

"Not the kind with wings." He twiddled his thumbs and stared into his lap. "And not the kind with halos."

"Then what kind?"

"The kind that," He started, he didn't know what he wanted to say. How would he describe this to her? "The kind that bring you hope, when hope becomes a strange thing." He finished. Tsunadaes expression shifted from interested to serious.

"Have you found your angel Itachi?" She quirked an eyebrow.

Itachi didn't know. Had he found his angel? His red haired, silent, harsh, adorable angel.

"Yeah." He confirmed. "I think I have." He smiled after saying it. And for once, a tiny bit of peace washed over his body, and at that moment in time, Itachi slowly began to feel again.

* * *

sorry this chapter was really shitty.

and i ask for your forgiveness with any grammar or spelling errors.

i sort of rushed this one.

for those of you who don't know who Pein is, he's the revealed leader of akatsuki

well thats pretty much it for now.

i'll try and update soon again, and maybe next time it'll be a little longer, i don't know.

love you all!

be sure to reveiw!


	7. Sidetracked

this is sort of a side story. it's Gaara's past, when he was still involved and showed him about two to three weeks before he was admitted into the mental hospital.

i thought what happened then should be explained a little. no worries, we'll be back to the present in the next chapter! and mucho more itachiXgaara fluff will be in it.

**disclaimer;** **don't own, don't sue.**

enjoy.

_

* * *

_

_The ugliness, the licentiousness, the love that's just skin deep._

_Please get me out before I become just a memory of what I used to be._

_Get me the fuck out _

Fingers outstretched to the luminescent sunlight shining in through the glass window. Sparkling, glimmering hope centimeters away from his pale, cracked, gnarled fingernails. Dust fluttered through the air in the room, thickening the atmosphere to the point of suffocation. Nothing would force the tears that we're brimming on his eyes to fall. The burning sensation in his nose and throat we're unbearable and the natural muscle twitches of his face painful. The life that he was living wasn't something a normal person would want to live. Each day spent in endless mental torture, while tyrants in white coats and scrubs try to "cure" you. But, their incessant efforts remain fruitless. Being a cow in a slaughterhouse is probably better than this. Each day an effort to work past his daily suicide. Sunshine falls down upon every fluorescent red lock of hair on his head. His fingers falter and back away from the glassy barrier he was reaching out to. The appendages curl in and fall lifelessly back into place. His legs sway slightly, heaviness in all his limbs. He's never felt this much emotion before, this much want, and need. This much yearning to be held and loved. He had never felt the warmth of a woman, or a man. He had always been left cold and had to love people with the falsity he had called an emotion.

Nothing would make these tears fall. Nothing.

And even though the day will come when that "nothing" will no longer exist and a "something" would come forth, he will continue on emotionless. Because emotion wasn't something he wanted, or needed for that matter. What was emotion but another wall to climb? And he was getting awful lazy these past few days. He didn't need to scale anything. His limbs were to tired, fingers and arms to sore, legs to stiff to do anything but mope like he always did. He couldn't bring himself to crawl out of the lake of self pity he was swimming in. And nobody brave enough had come along to throw him a line. The sad part is, he's starting to drown. And his muscles can't take much more of this endless strain to stay afloat.

But he will try. Because if he didn't the tears would fall.

The daily life he'd led up until now will never be the same. That's why he's going to take it and carve it into his memory, burn every last crack, every last memory into his mind. Take everything from the past years and give nothing back. He will remember everything. He will become his past. The life he has taken for granted for so long, will stay with him forever. So even when the morning comes he will not cry.

What need has he to cry?

* * *

"I'm on my way right now, I'll see you in fifteen minutes." The redhead breathed into the phone before hanging up. The roar of his car's engine blending into the sound of the others on the two lane highway.

Turn left.

Speeding down a back road and over a bridge, entering a city. The biggest city your sorry sad eyes would ever see. Streetlamps pointless, the entrancing glow of buildings and signs replacing them. The sounds of the nightlife filling every nook and cranny of the air. Screams, shouts, laughs. The plaguing clatter of glasses shattering in bars with their doors wide open, offering warmth and cheap sex to whomever wanted it. But where this certain bloody haired teen was headed was the secret life of the city. The untold stories and horrors that lurked in the alleys and abandoned buildings. He belonged to the people that **really** ran the city. Something no amount of force or tact could overpower. The part of this shadowed society that he belonged to was what people called 46 Fell. The only ones not named after a deadly sin.

Sharp right turn, onto a backstreet.

The glow of a sign ahead alerted the teen that he was nearing his destination. He could head a familiar voice shouting and guffawing, probably causing all varieties of mayhem. He pulled into a parking space and stepped out his car, not before lighting a fag of course. The person who had been yelling and pushing another boy stopped his antics to look at the new arrival.

"Gaara! Glad you could make it!" The sun-kissed blond bounced over to his friend with joy.

"Yeah, sure. Did you call Kankuro?" He took a long drag from his cigarette, much to the blondes annoyance.

"Yes, I called him." He waved his hands through the cloud of smoke forming around Gaara. "Damnit Gaara! You know I hate it when you smoke around me!" The blonde screeched.

"Deal with it Naruto." He flicked the ash of the end and put it out on his tongue.

"That's disgusting you creep!" Naruto yelled, staring at the cigarette butt laying on the damp sidewalk.

"Thanks for the compliments. Remind me later to put you at the top of my list." Gaara remarked.

"What list would that be Gaara?" A voice interjected. "Your "to-do" list." Numerous laughs and sniggers followed the intruders remark.

"Orochimaru this is our turf. Leave before I decide to remove your dick from the rest of your body." Gaara hissed, glaring at the man.

"Why? So you can shove it up your ass later?" He remarked.

Naruto's emotions got the better of him and he went to go punch the man, but Gaara promptly grabbed him and pulled him back. Before any further conflict could conspire a very sleek black sports car pulled up near the crowd. A very distraught and angry looking Kankuro stepped out. He took two glances at the groups standing there before choosing eloquent words to describe his feelings.

"What the fuck is that child molester doing here?" He seethed, directing his glare to Orochimaru.

"Orochimaru-sama is not a child molester you imbecile. Obviously you lack the competence to see that." A spiky haired raven boy voiced, whom was standing right next to Orochimaru. The elder seemed to have his arm wrapped around the speakers waist.

"Really now? I bet your brother would say differently." Kankuro spat, making Sasuke regret speaking. Gaara continued to look back and forth between the two, wondering how they knew each other.

"Kankuro, take Naruto to Kakashi's." He pointed in the general direction of the hotel. "I have a few things to take care of." Gaara commanded, completely ignoring the fact that his biggest enemy was standing right in front of him.

"What are you going to go do? Pick up some trannies?" The "enemy" remarked.

Gaara was halfway into his lemon yellow car by the time this remark reached his ears, then the incessant giddy fake-ass laughter chased it.

The click of the glove compartment of his car and the sound of his gun and the shrill screams that followed seemed to dull out the other sounds of the bustling city. Gaara's breath never quickened, his heart rate never excelled. It didn't need too.

Orochimaru doubled over in pain and blood spurted from his shoulder, some of it splashing on his pale white face. The scream coming from his mouth was blood-curdling, but Gaara just hardened his face. Naruto and Kankuro we're already driving down the street. Gaara waited a moment, watching his enemy writhe in pain, Sasuke glaring at him.

"Instead of glaring at me boy, I suggest you apply pressure to that wound and actually give him a chance at life." Gaara hissed before hopping into his car and tearing off the street. He didn't know where he was going, his mind was cloudy. Damn him and his irrational mind.

He pulled into an alley scattered with drunks and prostitutes. He exhaled and felt his fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles white as snow.

This was the end, and he started his countdown to death right then and there.

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oh jashin do i hate that ending.

it's atrocious and it's all like SAD SAD SAD END.

it's not even that explanitory.

just blah.

oh well, reveiw and tell me what you think.

you guys are the best.

love yahs.


	8. Victim

sorry for the long wait! i feel so mean for making all of you wait so long!

well here's the next chapter. ehhh it's got GaaraXSasuke friendship in it! so cute!

itachi isn't in the chapter. he's hiding! muwahaha!

ohhh the quote in the beginning belongs to Lewis Carroll. i didn't want to write his name under it for some reason.

**disclaimer; don't own, don't sue.**

enjoy!

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_A stopped clock is only right twice a day._

The blue plastic chair he was sitting in was more uncomfortable than cement. He felt knots forming in his back as he tried to get more comfortable. He stared around at the people around him - kids his age, but not nearly anything like him. He was as different as an elephant in a crowd of gorillas. Or something like that. He could feel the dizziness overwhelming him as a few more people piled in. He saw a flash of spiky raven coloured hair sit down next to him.

"Itachi told me about you." The person said, Gaara smirked.

"Hmmm, I've heard of you also Sasuke." The redhead muttered, sitting nervously on his hands. The pain of his bones popping slowly eased his nerves. Sasuke noticed this.

"So that's why you're here." The Uchiha commented.

"Hmph, you're quite observant." He looked the other up and down, taking in his posture, body language, clothes. Everything. "Why are you here?" He asked out of politeness, not curiosity. He already knew what he'd been damned here for.

Itachi's younger brother yawned before responding. "I'm a sex addict."

Gaara grunted still, even though he knew those where the words that he was to hear.

"Find it funny, Sabaku?" He ran a finger along the inside of Gaara's thigh, taunting him to say something more. The bloody haired teen didn't react to the sudden physical attention. He instead continued to look at the cars in the parking lot, ignoring the other entirely. Sasuke grabbed Gaara's arm and twisted it around before yanking it behind his back. Gaara screamed in pleasure at the sudden burst of pain. Sasuke tugged more and made Gaara moan.

"Stop it, now!" The advisor yelled from across the room. "That behavior is not allowed." She screeched, voice high pitched and annoying. Sasuke released the other, but not without a snark comment to the bitch that yelled at them. He called her something along the lines of a 'fat useless bitch." Gaara hadn't really paid much attention. He was more concerned with the thoughts muddling him. He continued to watch the parking lot intently.

"Alright, now that everyone's here and accounted for, let's begin." The advisor from earlier chirped brightly, her blonde hair pulled up into a pony tail. She was too cheerful for Gaara's taste.

"Does anybody have anything to share or ask?" Ino's hand shot up when she said this.

"Yes?" The blonde gestured for her to speak.

She stood up and stuck her butt out. "Do these jeans make me look fat?" She queried, with all the seriousness she could muster. Sasuke laughed obnoxiously.

"If we tell you yes are you going to make yourself throw up your lunch?" He smirked after saying these, noticing the tears in Ino's eyes.

"Sasuke! That was not necessary!" The advisor once again yelled at him. "Ino please sit down."

Everyone was quiet after that, until the nurse spoke up. "Come on, I know some of you had visitors yesterday. Did anybody get to see someone special that they haven't gotten a chance to talk to in a while?"

Gaara mentally noted that none of his family had come to visit him yesterday, not that he really cared. They where all bastards anyways.

A car screeched out in the parking lot as the driver quickly slammed on the brakes in order to avoid an accident. Gaara cringed very noticeably.

"You okay?" Sasuke nudged him in the side to get his attention. "Cars scare you or somethin'?" Gaara noticed a black tattoo on the other's wrist, but didn't have a chance to see what it was of.

"Yeah, sorta." Gaara replied. Sasuke knew why he was scared. He felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over him as he watched the redhead's eyes dart around the parking lot nervously. He reached over and grabbed Gaara's hand, comforting him the best he could.

The sat with there fingers intertwined with each others the rest of the group therapy meeting. The heat their palms creating being the only thing that soothed their on end nerves.

Gaara realized that he had made the first real friend that he'd had since the accident, and smiled at it. The irony of the situation passed right under his nose. If only he remembered why the other teen looked so damn familiar.

* * *

Gaara slowly slinked his way into the office that now belonged to a woman that went by the name of Tsunadae. He looked at the room and saw that she had almost identical chairs to the one that Yataka had. His throat felt suddenly very tight and closed as he slid slowly into one of them, it's tight leather groaning as if it where alive.

"Hmmm, so you're the Gaara that I've heard sooo much about." Gaara didn't even bother to look at her face, his eye transfixed on the mass amount of cleavage that was hanging out of her top.

"That's me." He responded, eyes never leaving her chest.

She tapped a pen on a thick file that she had. "So, let's talk about three years ago." She twirled the writing implement around in her fingers. "When your father started abusing you." She elaborated.

"Pick a different date." He said matter-of-factly. "Because I'm not talking about that day. Not now, not ever." His toes cracked at he rubbed the back of his leg with his sock clad appendage.

"Hmmm why won't you talk about it?" She scribbled something down on a piece of paper.

"It's a touchy subject." He stated, still rubbing the back of his leg. She looked up from writing and smiled before continuing her scribbling.

"According to Yataka, everything is a touchy subject with you." She smirked as Gaara reacted with a piercing glare. "Well since you're not going to talk without gaining something other than recovery I presume, we shall play a game." Gaara knew what she was going to say. "I ask a question, and then ask me a question. We both must answer honestly." She started twirling her pen again.

"Fine." This was the first time Gaara had agreed to reveal anything. He knew it was a bad decision from the beginning.

"Why did your father start hitting you?" Gaara clenched his fists when she said it. He closed his eyes for a few seconds.

"I killed my mother." Tsunadae realized what he meant by it. "Who raped you?" The redhead hissed. No reaction was evident on her features when the question escaped his lips.

"Someone that you know. He was a close friend of mine, and probably your worst enemy." Gaara heard a gunshot echo in his mind, the sound reverberating off his eyes before shooting back into the hind part of his skull.

"Did your brother or sister try to stop him, ever?" Gaara refused to look at the amount of pity that was uncharacteristically dripping from her eyes. He didn't need that sappy bullshit.

"Kankuro tried every single time." He whispered. He played with the hem of his shirt, remembering his brother stepping out of a yellow sports car, a gun loaded and at the ready hanging securely by his side. "He failed." More gunshots sounded in his skull. "Each and every time." He tore the bottom of his shirt a little from playing with it so much.

"How did you -" He stopped and swallowed. "How did you pull the pieces back together after it?" He was referring to the rape.

She smiled one of those sad smiles the red head knew all too well. They where on the border of sad but edging slowly into lonely.

"People like me are born strong, tough as nails if you will. I never knew my mother, my father drank himself to death. A friend of the family's raised me. I couldn't be weak." Her smile shifted into a simple thin line.

"Sometimes it's harder to glue everything back together than one thinks."

This was getting a little to emotional for Gaara's liking.

"You're memories of after you got involved in gangs - they're disconnected am I right?" She nervously jangled her foot.

"Yeah, most of the time. Their's only one that I remember fully." He didn't ask her another question this time - he had heard enough.

"What memory?" She inquired.

"One where I loose something that I held very very close to my heart." The sound of tires screeching and windows shattering hit his mind full force. "One where for once in my life I let every single wall I had ever built fall down. One where I'm as weak and as vulnerable as a person can possibly get." He could feel his eyes beginning to water.

"This person - you loved him didn't you?" She placed a box of tissues at the front of her desk. Gaara didn't take one, he laughed instead.

"The only thing a man, a boy, could love in the world I existed in was his gun." The swoosh of his manila folder closing reminded him that the hour had promptly ended. He nodded and left her office.

He went back to his room and slammed his fingers in the drawers of his dresser until he couldn't feel them anymore. The slam slam slamming drowning out the screams that refused to leave his mind.

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next chapter will be up sooner.

reveiw.


	9. Pain

sorry for the terribly long wait! i don't really have an excuse for not updating in a while.

i apologize for the oddness of the chapter. but i have to say, this had to be my favorite. i enjoyed writing it a lot.

**disclaimer; don't own don't sue.**

btw, check out my new fic Upside Down and reveiw it!

enjoy.

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**Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.**

He walked into his room knowing he would see him there. Knowing he would be sprawled out on his bed, waiting, body stretched like a cat, chest exposed only visible by the moonlight that was seeping in through the window and reflecting off his powdery complexion. Gaara knew he would beckon him over the side of his bed and pull him onto his waist, knew he would pull his shirt off. Knew he would stare at the scabbed flesh of the upside down cross on his lower abdomen. The redhead knew he'd run soft fingers down his chest, top to bottom. Knew the other would take in every curve, bump, and indent of him – memorize it for future reference. Knew he'd lean up and nip at the tip of his collar bone. Gaara knew he'd kiss him, full on the lips, captivating him with the tenderness, yet the longing in the connection. Gaara knew he'd do all these things.

Because, Itachi, no matter how hard he tried not to be, was the most predictable person Gaara knew.

So the feel of his body being laid down on the sheets of his bed, and the click of the door locking was something Gaara expected. He heard and felt it and was satisfied. He reveled in the pleasure he felt as Itachi dug his nails into his skin, bit him here and there, and drew blood to his skin in fresh wounds on his body. Moaned in complete ecstasy as he re-opened old ones. Nothing felt better than having the Uchiha sin all over him.

He felt the denim of his jeans brushing the skin of his legs, the article of clothing being tugged down to reveal a pair of black boxers that where elevated in the center. He felt that being taken off too. Slid down along his legs, to his ankles, off him completely and onto the floor where they belonged.

He soon found himself grabbing his to-be lover by the shoulders and pulling him under him, switching their positions. He took the button of the others pants in his mouth, playing with the metal circle. He looked up at the Uchiha and saw glazed red and black eyes peering back down at him, a look on his face that gave him the notion that he must have looked quite alluring in that position. The heat that was radiating from Itachi's pants was enough to fry and egg on, Gaara deduced as he popped the button open and slowly drug the zipper of the jeans down. The raven-haired wiggled out of the garment while the teenage redhead tugged. Soon the piece of clothing was off and thrown in the general direction Gaara's had been tossed in. The last piece of felonious clothing was then removed and discarded.

'_Now for the fun part.' _The redhead mused.

Gaara felt the other staring down at his feeble naked form, felt piercing red eyes memorizing every ridge, curve and bump of his body.

He wished the Uchiha would stop staring and just get the fuck on with it already.

His wish was answered as he felt the other press his finger tips to his mouth and command, "Suck."

For once in his life Gaara did as he was told and sucked Itachi's fingers, slicking the appendages with saliva. The raven haired pulled them out of the redhead's mouth and began to prepare him. Gaara squirming and moaning at the feel of that sensitive area being probed. This was done for a few minutes before the digits where removed and replaced with something quite larger.

Gaara hadn't even had a moment to ready himself, Itachi had slammed himself into the frail boy, tearing the other and drawing blood. He pounded in and out and in and out rhythmically, splaying crimson all over the white bed sheets that adorned Gaara's mattress. The redhead bit back a scream, the searing hot pain in his backside feeling like heaven, the ecstasy of everything wracking his body to a whole other level. He scratched Itachi's back raw, leaving red claw marks in his wake, small trickles of blood running down the smooth contours of his muscles.

The entire room wreaked of body fluids and sex by the time they where finished.

They went at it for hours, Itachi sticking himself in every orifice he could find. He made Gaara take every way possible, made him taste him, made him feel him, made the other's muscles ache at the very thought of him.

It got so bad, so violent and blood, so full of carnage that Gaara's body couldn't withstand it and he passed out. Itachi didn't stop though. He kept going and going, taking and taking.

When he was finished he cleaned himself off with Gaara's matted and messy hair before leaving.

Gaara slept until 9 o' clock at night the next day.

reveiw or itachi will brutally butt sex you.

:D


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